


Fineprint

by GrapieBee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A little bit of angst, Altean alchemy has Consequences ™
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 06:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15599964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapieBee/pseuds/GrapieBee
Summary: There were many a night there after where she would lay in her cot, brow damp with sweat and the feeling of blood soaked sand engraved on her fingertips.And she would have a million more nights like it, if it meant she could keep her found family whole.





	Fineprint

There was a moment, between reviving Lance and moving Shiro to his new body, that being versed in Altean alchemy was a double edged sword.   
  
True, there were the plain to see benefits that came with it. Being able to call a soul back to a body, the chance to imbue metals with quintessence and power. The knowledge that she was carrying on in her father’s footsteps, in her own time, in her own way.   
  
The cons to it though, the downsides written in fineprint that she hadn’t even known was there, were...upsetting.   
  
She first realized the sort of catch-22 she had signed up for when Shiro was finally on the mend. In the dead of night, under emergency blankets and on a nearly too small cot, she dreamed of things that were not hers to know.    
  
She dreamed of cells, of cold hard floors, of sand soaked through with blood, hot and coppery under her nails. 

She dreamed of a pounding cacophony surrounding her as voices screamed at her to kill, to maim, to be the  _ Champion  _ they had come to see. 

She dreamed of how flesh gave way easily to a blade, even if it was dull and rusted with foreign blood.

She dreamed of her right arm being torn into ribbons, of metal and wire being woven together with her flesh and bone.   
  


When she wakes in a cold sweat, her heart hammering in her throat and her blanket a tangled mess around her legs, she already knows who that dream really belonged to.   
  
When she pulls Coran aside in the morning, tired and sore and entirely ill rested, she doesn’t really expect any sort of concrete answer. But still, she asks, hoping he might shed some light on the ins and outs of the mantle she had taken up.    
  
“Coran, did my father ever...did he ever have odd dreams after using his alchemy?”   
  
When he remains quiet  for a tick, when he pulls her into a gentle hug but still says nothing, a pit forms in her stomach, cold and deep.   
Apparently keeping a part of those you saved came with the territory of alchemist.

  
There were many a night there after where she would lay in her cot, brow damp with sweat and the feeling of blood soaked sand engraved on her fingertips.

And she would have a million more nights like it, if it meant she could keep her found family whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Done during a sprint with some fellow writers in the Langston discord, had a blast!


End file.
